


coldness

by sophia_m



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Feelings Realization, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27300088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_m/pseuds/sophia_m
Summary: Benji’s nightmares are always the same.
Relationships: Benji Dunn & Ilsa Faust, Benji Dunn/Ethan Hunt
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	coldness

Benji’s nightmares are always the same. 

He’s watching Ethan and Walker fight, watching them move closer and closer to the edge of the cliff until Walker flips Ethan onto his back, watching him stagger to his feet. He always calls out for Benji, begging him for his help, tears falling from his eyes and blood smeared on his face before Walker kicks him squarely in his chest, sending him over the edge. Benji can never move or say anything, he’s rooted in place, his skin burning and his head pounding. 

He wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for air and a shout leaving his mouth. 

He’s never able to fall back asleep after the nightmare so he stays awake, eyes focused on the ceiling above him, the nightmare playing out over and over in his mind until sunlight streams into his window forcing him to get out of bed.

Benji catches himself falling asleep at times he shouldn't, experiencing microsleeps while behind the wheel of his car, getting simple things mixed up, forgetting dates and events and the other agents start to notice his decline. Luther offers him his ear but Benji never picks up his calls or returns his texts. Brandt corners him one morning and warns him to get some help before he’s benched. Two days later, the Secretary informs him he’s out of the field until he completes a psych evaluation. 

“When was the last time you got a full night’s rest?” Ilsa shows up in Benji’s kitchen uninvited one night, nearly 2 weeks after Kashmir and when the nightmares began. Benji gives a look that has Ilsa reaching out to pull him into a hug. He loses it in her arms, crying hard as she tries to reassure him, hands rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I know Benji, I get it. I’m so sorry, so sorry. But there’s nothing that you could’ve done for him, nothing you can do. Ethan wouldn’t want you to be like this; he’d hate himself if he knew what he had turned you into.”

Benji shakes his head, trembling in Ilsa’s arms as a sob slips from his mouth. “I know but -” The words get caught in Benji’s throat.

Ilsa helps Benji to his couch, draping a blanket around his shoulders and disappearing back in the kitchen to pour them both a mug of hot tea. She takes a seat next to Benji, resting her head against his shoulder with a soft sigh. “Benji please take care of yourself. I can’t lose you as well.”

“I’m sorry,” Benji whispers after a moment of silence. 

“Come with me tomorrow,” Her voice is soft as she replies. “Let’s see him together, maybe it’ll help.”

Benji shakes his head, swallowing dryly. “I can’t.”

Ilsa doesn’t say anything else. By the time she’s finished her tea, Benji is falling asleep against her shoulder, his cup threatening to fall from his hands. Carefully laying Benji back down on the couch, Ilsa tucks a pillow under his head and the blanket around him. Before she slips out of his house, she leaves a note on Benji’s fridge, with the time of her visit tomorrow, should Benji change his mind.

The note ends up crumbled and in Benji’s trash the following morning.

The days tick by slowly; Benji only knows what day it is because of Ilsa. She starts dropping by every night, a bag of food in her arms. Usually a soup or stew and a sandwich, sometimes a pasta dish from some small hole in the wall restaurant. She never leaves until Benji has eaten all of his share and had a cup of tea. They sit together on the couch, sometimes in silence as they eat and sometimes sharing stories. 

Or rather Ilsa shares stories. Stories of her childhood and family, of her early years in MI6 and of her time in the Syndicate. Benji listens, nodding when appropriate but the only words he says are to thank her for the food and wish her a good night. Ilsa doesn’t bother to push him in sharing stories or to invite him on her visits anymore.

It’s halfway through week 4 when Benji asks Ilsa to go with her on her next visit. She gives him a smile and nods, drawing Benji into a tight hug, whispering ‘thank you’. She tells him she’ll be by at 11 to get him.

The water in Benji’s shower that night feels hotter than he remembers. His muscles feel looser, more relaxed as he washes his hair and his pyjamas feel warmer on his skin. His sleep isn’t undisturbed, however; the same nightmare as always taunts him and he’s awake by quarter after 4.

Benji makes himself breakfast but finds himself unable to eat it so he scrapes it into his trash can and goes to get ready. By 9, he’s waiting on the couch, a cup of tea clutched in his hands tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white. 

When Ilsa shows up just before 11, letting herself in, she’s pleasantly surprised to see Benji dressed and ready. They don’t share any words as they get into her car and the ride is silent. Benji’s fingers are tapping away on his thighs, his nerves running high and the closer they get to their destination, the more Benji starts to regret his decision to come with Ilsa. 

Pulling into a parking spot, Ilsa rests a hand on Benji’s knee and meets his eyes. “Are you ready?”

Taking a breath, Benji shakes his head after a beat. “No, I am not but I need to do this.”

Ilsa nods reassuringly and leads Benji from the car into the hospital and through the winding hallways until they reach a private room. 

“I’ll let you go first.” Ilsa pats Benji’s shoulder before taking a seat in the chair by the closed door. “Take your time."

Benji nods, his hands shaking as he shoves them into his pockets and slowly enters the room, the door closing behind him. 

The ventilator is louder than Benji would’ve thought and the room is brighter than he expected. He takes a seat in the chair next to the bed and reaching out, closes Ethan’s cold hands in his. His fingers are limp and cold as he lifts them to his face, brushing his lips against his knuckles as silent tears fall free. All Benji can think of is how small Ethan looks in the bed, with all the tubes and IVs protruding from him and twisting around his body. He wants to say something but he can’t think of what to say so he just squeezes Ethan’s hands, desperate to feel anything in them. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Benji drops Ethan’s hands back onto the bed and staggers to his feet, the chair loudly hitting the ground. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is all that runs through Benji’s mind. Ethan always saved the day and walked away from the danger but no, not this time. He didn’t get to walk away this time and it wasn’t fair. After everything they had gone together - everything Lane had put them through - they deserved their happy ending. But no, it never works out that way. 


End file.
